Book 12 : 783-786

783 Winter 3,5

Oberon is twenty years old. It seems no time since he was ten. His birthday was yesterday. We had a party – at Behmi’s, of course.

He stayed in town with friends afterwards, and I am at home, alone. The weather is too wild to go walking along the point to collect seaweed and shellfish, and I don’t have work today. Later on I’ll go and get another half heft of firewood. We’re not running short, far from it, but it’s a good habit, and it gets me out of the house. I’ll get lunch at Behmi’s, and have a natter.

I haven’t written my diary for years. So much has happened, and I don’t know where to begin.

There’s now a solid stone guardhouse where Behmi’s old place used to be. When they made the dockyard boundary they built new premises backing onto it to replace the buildings they demolished. Behmi has a new guesthouse, and they charge a rent she can afford without having to raise her prices beyond what her customers will pay. She’s got the same number of guest rooms she used to have, and they’re stone, not wooden, and generally much nicer. The restaurant is bigger, too, and the kitchen’s better. The business is going well, and Behmi’s got a couple of girls working for her who do most of the hard physical work.

Hemrom is back in Laanoha, in charge of the workshops here, and living with his wife and two children in a tenement in town. Baashi and Kaahmi are both married, and live in Meyroha. I don’t know Baashi’s husband – met him at the wedding, where Oberon and I performed, but that’s the only time.

Kaahmi’s husband is Baamoon, Imbaal’s sister’s stepson, who’s a fairly frequent visitor to the railway offices here. Nice fellow – remarkably nice, considering he’s a toff! They’ve got two small boys.

Two old ladies, ghuhrhu widows, share the house next door to ours, where Hemrom and his sisters grew up. They’ve taken over half the vegetable patch from me – I’m working part-time in the railway offices again, and collecting ekraahi and seaweed in season. The vegetable patch is a bit smaller, and a bit further away than it used to be, and the soft fruit patch has gone – there’s a new terrace of houses behind ours where it used to be. And our house is no longer the end of the terrace, there are two more houses below it. I get further and further from the sea as the level goes down.

Senghori is tied up at a jetty on the Aaha side of town. I’d like to keep her out of the water like we used to, but there’s nowhere here we can pull her ashore any more.

I do a bit of work in the railway office from time to time, covering for Imbaal when he goes to Meyroha, or if there are several people off sick or on holiday, and occasionally a bit in the port office for the same sort of reason – but often if the port office has several folks off sick, the railway office has too. I feel more attachment to the railway, so they get first call on my time.

We see Viiniha and the Vinhaassa men occasionally – maybe about once a year – and Viiniha always has a few hundred coins for us, that she says is our share of the profits our boat makes.

Which reminds me: I did eventually talk to her about Oberon’s question. Of course she’d thought about it, but she’s no idea who tipped the pirates off. She’s pretty sure it wasn’t the dealer she was working for, nor the harbour master in Perruhi, nor the purchaser. But people supplying copper to the dealer in the first place might have had someone watch where it went, or someone who knew the purchaser might have watched where it came from. But they’ve had no further trouble from pirates.

Oberon makes a reasonable living teaching the three Rs in a school for railway employees’ children – he’s been doing that for four years now. He and I earn a bit extra sometimes playing the mizma and fihihi at parties in Behmi’s guest house and occasionally at the Laanoha Hotel. We sing too – mostly old Mezha songs. And that’s another tale to tell.

Who am I telling? Myself, that’s all. And Oberon when I translate for him, which he gets me to do from time to time. Less often nowadays – but that’s no doubt because I’ve not written anything new for ages. Maybe one day he’ll have a wife and children, and they might want me to translate it for them. Or not, who knows?

Oberon isn’t learning English at all. But he and I have taken to visiting Mezham from time to time. It’s not an official stop for the trains, but of course we’re both railway men, so the drivers will drop us there cheerfully, and going home it’s not a terribly long walk to the banking engine siding where they have to stop anyway.

I’d started to learn the old songs from Aari, but she’d learnt them as a child, and had got them a bit wrong in places – often amusingly wrong, we’ve discovered.

We stay in Riimaani’s house. She’s an old lady now, but still fit and cheerful, and glad to get a few coins, which we can afford these days without worrying.

Her youngest son Paarem still lives in the village, but he has his own house. And a wife and three children. He thinks it’s hilarious that we sing Mezha songs at parties in Laanoha, and makes sure we know all the most risqué ones. Most folks there won’t know what you’re singing about, he says, and those who do will love you forever. We get a good response to these songs from everyone, but you can tell who understands and who doesn’t.

It’s not just the Mezhamers who understand, of course. Zhaama and Maara are enough like Mezha, and there are more Maaramers than Mezhamers in Laanoha. Very few Zhaamers here, as far as I know – but some of the folk I think are Mezhamers or Maaramers might be.

783 Winter 3,6

I got very wet and cold walking into town yesterday. It was much too windy to use an umbrella. I think my coat’s still waterproof, but it gets condensation on the inside in weather like that, so it’s hard to tell. Fortunately Behmi had a roaring fire going in the lounge.

We had a long chat, reminiscing about old times. The girls had finished doing the rooms, and there was no-one in the restaurant. They made tea¹ and brought us some cakes, and came and sat with us.

The way they talk, I think they’ve both got their eyes on Oberon. Well, he could do a lot worse. But I shan’t say anything – to them or to him. As long as I remember to skip over this bit when I’m translating!

It was still very windy walking home, but at least the rain had stopped. I picked up my half heft of firewood in the market. The firewood man had gone, having sold all his stock, but he’d left my purchase with the vegetable man, who was still trying to get rid of the last of his stock. I bought a few beans, but couldn’t relieve him of everything – it would have been too much weight for me, and I wouldn’t have used it all before it went off. Not even if I gave some to Oeli and Braami next door, which I sometimes do at this time of year, when they’re getting nothing from their vegetable patch.

Oberon worked yesterday. He came home quite late, and left for work early this morning, so we haven’t really talked since the party yet. I’m not sure whether he might have something on his mind. I don’t know why he was late yesterday.

783 Winter 4,4

So Oberon is going to find a place in town with two friends – young railway workshop men. He says he can afford it, and prefers to live in town. I didn’t think this was too far out of town really, but it’s his life. I’d get a lodger, except that this place isn’t really big enough for anyone who isn’t close family. He says I’ll see him often, and we’ll still play music in town together often enough – we’ll see what really happens. I don’t suppose I’d be terribly welcome to stay over at his place if we’re playing music late. Probably best if I take to booking a room at Behmi’s for such occasions.

Oberon will always be welcome here, of course.

783 Winter 5,3

The family in the house opposite mine are moving into town too. I shall miss them. The twins are so sweet, but Parruki looks as though she’s expecting twins again, so I can understand them wanting a bigger place. I wonder what the new people will be like?

783 Winter 5,7

They’re nice people. They’ve got one son, six years old – Judd. And he says he’d love to learn to read and write, and do arithmetic, yes please! I don’t think they can afford to pay me for lessons, but I don’t need the money, and I do need the company – and a purpose in life. They’ll probably pay me in kind one way or another anyway, they seem like that sort of people.

783 Winter 7,2

Judd is a bright little boy, and keen to learn. A pleasure to teach. None of the other children in the street at the moment are in the least interested. My only worry is that Judd will end up a loner, he doesn’t seem to want to mix with the other children, and being the only one studying will make that worse.

It would be good for him to join in Oberon’s class in town, but some of the parents wouldn’t like that, because Judd’s parents aren’t railway people. He’s a fisherman, and she cooks and cleans in a guest house in town.

Why are people like that? He’s just a little boy. It’s not his fault what his parents do for a living – and there’s nothing wrong with what they do for a living anyway. But what can I do about it?

You can’t change the world, Gom.

Or can you?

So long, long ago, I had that thought before. And wrote it down. If I hadn’t written it down, I’d have forgotten it. But I wrote it down, and read it to Aari – translated it to Aari.

783 Winter 7,3

I had to stop writing yesterday. I couldn’t stop crying. And then today I read a lot of bits of my old diaries.

What I wrote, and translated for Aari all those years ago, was this:

you can’t change the world.

Or can you? I don’t know. I don’t think I can, but that’s not to say that no-one can. Goodness knows, I have tried, but maybe I’m not very good at it. All I get for my trouble is trouble.

I was thinking about prostitution then, not prejudice. And I couldn’t change the whole world, but I did change a tiny bit of it, for that one special person who so very nearly became a prostitute. And I hadn’t thought about it in those terms at all, not until I translated what I’d written for Aari.

And no, I can’t change the world about prejudice, either. Is there any way I can change a little bit of it, for one little boy? I don’t know.

I’ll talk to Imbaal and Oberon about it.

But I can’t help thinking about Aari. At seventeen, an orphan, and almost a prostitute; at twenty-one, mother of a lovely girl; at twenty-six, mother of a lovely boy; at thirty, dead, along with our darling daughter. And so much more to remember about her, and so much more she meant to me.

783 Winter 7,4

I had to stop writing again. And I had to go to work, and Imbaal saw that I was upset. And we talked, about old times, and new times, and everything, and neither of us got much work done although there’s a lot to do, and Imbaal said that sometimes there are more important things than keeping up with the work. We’ll catch up later.

He’s a damn good manager. Treats his staff decently and manages to keep the committee happy.

As for Judd – Imbaal will think about that one. I have the impression he’s got some ideas, but wants to cogitate before sharing them.

Okay. Obviously I shouldn’t say anything to Oberon or Judd or his parents just now.

783 Winter 8,3

I’ve lost my pupil, and Oberon has gained one. This is a good thing. Judd’s mother – Miisha – has a new job, working in the kitchen at the railway yard. They needed more staff, because they’ve increased the number of coaches on the trains, and there are more passengers wanting meals on the trains.

It’s no solution to the prejudice problem, but it does solve Judd’s immediate problem for him.

But not mine. Winter is a depressing time, alone in a little house away from the middle of town. The rest of the year is okay – I can walk along the shoreline, collect seaweed and shellfish if I feel like it, take it into town for Behmi, occupy myself. But what should I do with myself at this time of year?

I can write. But what for?

I don’t see Oberon very often. We chatter cheerfully when we do see each other, but it’s not often. I chatter with Behmi most days, even in winter, and I buy a half heft of firewood and carry it home most days. But it doesn’t fill my waking hours on the days I don’t have work, not by a long way.

I think. I dream. I reminisce.

I’m not an old man. I’m fifty-seven, that’s all.

Dempsey is fifty-eight. I like to imagine her playing with grandchildren. Maybe she is. I’ll never know.

Maybe she died long ago. If she’s still alive, I wonder whether she thinks about me? She probably thinks I died long ago. Mother and Agni must have died long ago.

Maybe not. Mid-eighties isn’t impossible, even for poor folks in London. Just a bit unlikely.

I’ll never know.

783 Winter 10,1

Miisha tells me Oberon has a girlfriend, Niina. She and Miisha work together in the kitchen. I’m not to say anything though, I’ve got to wait for Oberon to tell me. It’s going to be hard to pretend not to have known all along.

784 Spring 9,4

Here’s something I never remembered to write about before. For years now, there’s been a young woman auking on the point every spring. She was there again this morning. Reminds me of when Hemrom used to do it, but she’s far more agile than ever he was.

I’m envious. I’d love to be able to do it, and I love bird meat and eggs. I’d ask her for some – pay her, of course – but the one time I tried to talk to her, she ran away. Well, swung away, really, just kicked herself away from the cliff and swung on that rope of hers round a shoulder of cliff out of sight. Gone in a flash.

She never takes much, just enough for her own family, I guess. She could make a good living supplying guest houses or a restaurant.

Oberon still hasn’t told me about Niina. Miisha says they’re still together. I don’t see Oberon much, but we chat cheerfully when we do see each other. But he’s not said a word about her. Give him time, Gom!

784 Winter 7,4

I’ve been ill. Oeli and Braami made sure Oberon knew. He told Behmi, and she sent one of her girls round with a basket of food and instructions to cook for me. For the first three or four nights Viilaami stayed overnight, downstairs, but more recently Oberon’s been coming round after work and then walking her home, quite late in the evening.

I think Niina may be history. Oberon hasn’t told me, although we’ve been chatting more while I’ve been ill than we had for quite a while.

The doctor says I must avoid getting cold walking on the point in winter. Of itself the cold isn’t bad for my heart, but getting chest infections like this is definitely risky. The cold itself doesn’t give you infections, but it does lower your defences.

That’s what he reckons, anyway. Whether he’s got any actual information, and if so where from, I don’t know. Whether his reasons are right or not, his advice seems to work for most people most of the time, which is good enough for me. I’ve no better source of information, anyway.

Oberon thinks just being depressed is enough to lower the defences, and he might have a point too. He’s promised to visit me more often, and to try to get some opportunities for me to play the mizma and maybe even sing a bit.

784 Winter 7,6

The weather has continued to be foul. I’ve been thinking to draw maps of my travels. I can remember, more or less, the maps I saw in London, of England, Ireland, Germany, France, and Spain. But that’s a very small part of the world, and I think I’ve travelled quite a large part of the world by now – maybe half way round it, or even a little more. And from the northern ice to the southern ice – well, southern icebergs, if not the main mass of ice.

If there even is a main mass in the south. That’s just an assumption. All I’ve seen is icebergs and storms in the far south.

Aibram with his beautiful instruments would probably have been able to work out the geography exactly, and make accurate maps. I can’t, but I can make some rough guesses.

{At this point, Birgom used several pages making progressively better maps, culminating in the four maps I’ve moved to the end of the diary for the readers’ convenience.}

784 Winter 8,7

Oberon is as good as his word. I have two regular evenings playing the mizma – even Odibis² at the Railwayyard Inn, and by-four Odamas³ at Behmi’s.

Last night was my first gig at the Railwayyard. Oberon started the music, because he knew it’s hard to wind me up enough to perform, but then we did duets, and finally I worked up the courage to do solos. It seemed to go down well – but most of the audience was railway folk, many of them old friends, but quite a few I didn’t know, too. And a few visitors who’d arrived on the train.

No charge for admission – couldn’t be, really, this was in the public bar – but they said it had been good for trade, and gave me a room for the night and breakfast.

We got quite a few tips from the visitors. Twenty-two and three eighths coins, in fact. Not bad for a few hours’ playing, but we’ll only get nine nights a season, so I still need other income. Who knows whether we’ll make as much at Behmi’s anyway, or whether we’ll get this much at the Railwayyard on a regular basis?

But the income’s not really the important thing. I do have other income, and Oberon’s got a decent salary. It’s the social side of it that’s really important. Whether depression really lowers the body’s defences or not, it’s a bad thing in itself.

I don’t know whether the gigs will be a year-round thing, or just for Winter and the first half of Spring. But those are the most depressing seasons anyway.

Miisha was serving at the bar, with a younger woman. Was that Niina? I didn’t find out.

784 Winter 10,7

Another good night at the Railwayyard last night. More visitors than three weeks ago, and some of them more generous: thirty-one and a quarter coins!

But I declined the offer of a bed for the night and breakfast, and walked home with Miisha and Judd. He was there in the audience last time as well, but I hadn’t noticed him. They’d wondered after the gig what had happened to me – they’d assumed I’d walk home with them, and had been a bit anxious walking home in the dark on their own. Judd’s father is away on the boats, as he is so much of the time.

784 Winter 11,3

I lost my three-Rs pupil a year ago, but I’ve gained a fihihi pupil! The same little fellow, Judd. He’s keen, and he seems to have a good ear. Now the weather’s better, I’m starting collecting seaweed and shellfish again, and he’s coming with me on my walks along the foot of the cliffs sometimes, too – and taking stuff back for his Maama.

784 Winter 12,2

Last night was our first gig at Behmi’s. A very different crowd from the Railwayyard. A few of the railway folk, but mostly sea folk. We didn’t take as much money – a lot of eighths, no full coins at all – but a very joyful, rowdy night. The Mezha songs especially went down very well, with lots of folk joining in for the choruses, and a couple of chaps knowing some of the verses, too.

No Miisha and Judd to walk home, so I stayed the night and was treated to breakfast. No charge. Behmi says trade was her best night ever. She says Oberon had got the port office to tell everyone who came in. He understands these things.

I suppose I understand them, too. I just don’t have the chutzpah to do anything about it.

Once Oberon had got me going, he left me to perform on my own, and went and stood by the bar. Viilaami was serving, but I noticed that she and Oberon were chatting and laughing together a lot.

784 Winter 12,7

A bit quieter last night. More than our first night, but not as many as two weeks ago. Not so many railway folk – but more train passengers, and the tips were the best yet.

Walked home with Miisha and Judd. He wants to get good enough on the fihihi to join in – and he’s determined enough to do it before long, too. He doesn’t have to be perfect. The audience will love him anyway, but I won’t tell him that. I’ll tell his Maama privately if I get a chance.

784 Winter 13,6

Oberon came round last night – unusual, for an Aadaali⁴ – and eventually got round to telling me why he’d come, after chatting away for ages about everything else. He wants my advice about Niina and Viilaami.

I wish I had some advice to give him, but it’s not something I know anything about. I’ve never known anything about it – I knew nothing about it in England, I knew nothing about it in Yambai when I met his mother, I knew nothing about it on Manafariiba, and I know even less about it in Laanoha. I told him I’d think about it, but that I’d never had the problem myself: there was only ever his Maama for me.

I’d ask Miisha, except that she’s friends with Niina and doesn’t know Viilaami; or Behmi, but she’s Viilaami’s friend and employer, and doesn’t know Niina. Imbaal is a wise man, and knows the local culture. Damn it, I ought to by now, how long have I been here? I’m just useless.

Whether Imbaal is the best person to ask, I don’t know – or whether it would be better to ask a woman. Oeli or Braami? It would have to be Oeli and Braami; you can’t ask one anything without asking the other. I don’t think I could ask them anyway, and Oberon doesn’t really know them. I’m sure Morli would be good, but she lives in Meyroha now. She’s often here, but when she’ll next be here, I’ve no idea.

785 Spring 1,2

Oberon came round again yesterday. With Viilaami. I don’t know whether he did his own thinking, or asked someone for advice. Maybe he’ll tell me sometime, but I can understand why he didn’t tell me with Viilaami here.

Their betrothal is going to be at Behmi’s, next Odama – just a week away. And I’m to bring my mizma. Of course. And please can Judd bring the fihihi too.

And yes, of course they have my blessing! And yes, of course they can borrow Senghori. Any time they like.

I don’t know anything about Niina, apart from what Miisha has told me, and the little Oberon told me a few days ago. I know Viilaami is a lovely young woman, kindhearted, intelligent, thoughtful and hardworking. And she clearly loves Oberon to bits. I hope he’s as committed to her.

One thing he did say last week was that he felt an obligation to Niina, but that he thought he loved Viilaami. Which I should surely have been able to know meant he should marry Viilaami, but I didn’t.

And I don’t know how Niina is going to take it, or what Miisha is going to say to me. Life is complicated. Life is what life is.

785 Spring 1,3

Miisha says life is what life is. She knew before I did. She says Niina is bitterly disappointed and depressed, but was expecting it really. Oberon had told Niina before he asked Viilaami.

He’s a better diplomat than I am. I think. I hope; Miisha doesn’t know how the whole business went, but it sounds as though it must have been as gentle as such a business could be. I don’t think Miisha is trying to spare my feelings or anything; I think she’s telling it the way she sees it. And she knows Niina.

Life is what life is.

Judd is excited to have been asked to play at the betrothal.

785 Autumn 13,7

Judd’s father’s boat hasn’t returned. There was a sudden, bad storm, and everyone is very worried. I’ve been up on the top of the point with the binoculars every day, but I’ve not seen any sign of a sail. Oberon’s been looking too – his eyes are better than mine, but he has to be at work most of the time – but he can’t see anything either.

They should have been home a few days ago. No-one worries for a day or two; fishermen often run before a storm, or take shelter in the first safe haven they can reach until the storm is past, and then come home when they safely can. But it’s getting to be a long time now.

Very worrying.

I think Miisha is pregnant again, but I’m not the sharpest observer and I’m not one to be asking.

785 Winter 1,4

Oeli tells me Miisha is pregnant. Well, not straight out like that, just assuming I knew I think, talking about how we could help her. Little Jiishaani isn’t two yet, and Judd’s only eight, and now there’ll be another little mouth to feed.

At least Miisha has a railway job, and Imbaal will give her paid leave for a while, and part-time work after that. But it’ll still be a struggle for her if Zhiimon doesn’t come home. And it’s looking pretty unlikely that he will.

Two other chaps lost as well, but I don’t know either of them, nor their families.

785 Winter 2,7

I’d not been writing my diary all summer. Not said anything about Oberon and Viilaami’s wedding, or about the place they’ve got just round the corner from Behmi’s – a really nice room in the top floor three storeys above a glass-blower’s workshop. Solid stone building, with huge dormer windows out the front and the back of their room with good views over the city.

The glass blower has an arched stone ceiling. It’s like a cave in there, except that it’s really warm. The heat comes up right through the building, but there’s no risk of the fire spreading. The chimney breast in Obe and Vii’s room is lovely and warm, and they don’t need to light a fire at all. Perhaps they will in the dead of winter, but it’ll save them a fortune in firewood anyway.

Restarted the regular gigs last night, after giving them up for the last half of Spring and all Summer. Just playing at a few betrothals and weddings – especially Obe and Vii’s, of course.

I wasn’t doing much work for Imbaal over the summer. Did a bit of collecting seaweed and shellfish for Behmi, and enjoying my freedom. Walking all around the place, chatting with everyone, going out in Senghori, sometimes with Judd and one or two of his friends, or with Obe and Vii, sometimes on my own.

Took a trip up the line to Briggi, and another to Meyroha. Stopped off at Mezham on the way back, stayed with Riimani and had a long chat with Paarem.

The guards are becoming overbearing. You can’t go anywhere without your papers, and people have been locked up for days if they’ve been caught without them. Even Judd has been asked for his; he’s only eight and won’t have any papers for another couple of years. Unless Miisha decides to take him up to the castle and tell them he’s ten even though he isn’t, just to get him something to show the damned guards.

785 Winter 3,5

Oberon has found an upstairs room in a tenement close to the Railwayyard Inn for Miisha and the children. There’s a young woman on the ebi⁵ floor who’ll look after Jiishaani while Miisha is at work. And, when it arrives, the new baby. Imbaal is happy for Miisha to run home to feed the baby a few times a day. So I’ve lost a good neighbour again, and my fihihi pupil. Hey ho. Better for them anyway, and I’ll visit them from time to time. It’s no distance from Behmi’s.

785 Winter 4,2

The first gig of the winter at Behmi’s last night. A terrific night. Lots of the railway people there, as well as a good crowd of strangers. Apparently most of the railway folk thought we’d given up, and didn’t know about the previous do at the Railwayyard.

Imbaal made a little speech. He called me “our beloved Uncle.” I didn’t know where to hide myself.

Judd did the first turn, solo. Everybody loved him, of course. I hope he manages to keep it going, now he’s not going to get regular lessons.

We got fifty-two and an eighth in tips. We got Imbaal to make an impartial decision about how to share them – Oberon and I have no problems with that, obviously, but how could we decide how much to give Judd? He only performed one solo, and joined in on a few of the other pieces, and he’s still an early learner really – but the audience love him.

He got eight and an eighth. Exactly how Imbaal worked that out I don’t know, but Judd was ecstatic and Oberon and I were perfectly happy, so it was good working out however it was done.

Nobody to walk home. Bed and breakfast at Behmi’s. On the house, of course.

Went round to have a look at Miisha’s place this morning before I came home. No answer at the door of her room, so I tried the door on the ebi floor. Judd opened it.

He turned and shouted back into the room, it’s okay, Yaana, it’s just Birgom.

Yaana is the lady who’s looking after Jiishaani. I recognized her instantly: she’s the young woman I’ve seen auking on the point. At last we’ve been introduced; she still seemed very nervous!

Her ten year old son Peyr isn’t nervous at all. He was sitting in a shabby old armchair, with Jiishaani astride his foot, holding her hands and bouncing her up and down. He reminds me so much of Aibram, doing the same thing with Aariini all those years ago, although of course he’s a great deal younger than Aibram was. He was even singing the same song, albeit an octave or more higher.

I couldn’t help it; the tears came rolling down my face.

Which Yaana saw, and her nervousness vanished as if it had never been. She came over to me, and reached up and wiped my tears, with a concerned look on her face.

What’s the matter?

I couldn’t talk. I just shook my head, and wiped my own tears again. She sat me down on a bench by the table and produced two cups of skiir.

Take your time, she said.

It’s nothing, just old memories. Your son bouncing Jiishaani like that brings them back. What I really came for was to see how Miisha’s managing. I’m one of her old neighbours.

We chatted for quite a while, but I made sure I left before she started thinking about lunch.

Yaana’s husband Joesham is away, labouring on a road building project in the mountains between Imblim and Gorb. Wherever that is. He’s expected back before the weather gets too bad in the mountains.

785 Winter 4,7

Last night’s gig at the Railwayyard was a record breaker. Sixty-eight and three eighths; Imbaal wasn’t there but Hemrom gave Judd ten and an eighth, and everyone was happy.

Miisha pretended not to be.

My small son earns more in a couple of hours than I can earn in a day!

But you could see in her face that really she was pleased, and proud. And she knows he has to practice for hours to be able to perform like that, and only gets to perform three times in four weeks.

785 Winter 12,6

No gig tonight, the weather is too foul. It’s the first time we’ve missed one, but Hemrom sent Peyr to tell me it has to be cancelled, and I can’t say I’m sorry. Well, I’m sorry for Peyr, trailing all that way in the rain just to save me from trailing all that way in the rain. And he’s had to do it twice, whereas I could have stayed in town for the night and hoped for better weather in the morning.

And what rain it is! And thunder and lightning like the end of the world. Reminds me of that night in Vinhaassa, stuck on a sandbank in the middle of the Maze. I remember Aibram saying it was often like this, anywhere from Bhoemar to here, but I’ve not experienced anything like it in all the years I’ve been here. Until now.

785 Winter 12,7

This morning was bright and sunny with not a cloud in the sky, and the wind had dropped to nearly nothing. Apart from the fact that everything is dripping, you’d never believe what was going on last night.

But the temperature has dropped like a stone. Yesterday was really warm for the time of year; today it can’t be much above freezing. If it doesn’t freeze tonight I’ll be very surprised – especially if it stays clear like this.

We’ve not had much frost this winter, not yet. And no snow at all. There’s been a lot of snow up in the mountains, and even more up at Tambuk, but not enough to cause the railway any trouble. Not like last year!

Not until last night, that is. The trains came through the mountains today, no trouble – a lot more snow, but nothing the trains couldn’t handle. We’ll hear about Tambuk in a couple of days’ time.

I took the opportunity to take a walk all round the point, back along the other side and into town that way. It’s a good long walk, and I feel the better for it, even though it was rather cold. I’ve got a good coat, but I was still very ready for a hot skiir and a hot meal by the time I got to Behmi’s.

There was a bit of wind damage in town last night. I saw Joesham up on a roof this morning. He scares me the way he does that. Hemrom would insist on scaffolding for any of his workers to do that sort of work, but Joesham doesn’t even tie his ladders. But you can’t tell him. He’s earning very good money and his clients are still getting a good job done cheap. But at what risk?

786 Spring 1,3

Who was waiting for me at Behmi’s this morning? Viiniha! I’d not seen her for a couple of years.

All well with Vinhaassa?

Yes!

A thousand coins for me...for nothing. Well, for my share of Vinhaassa, given by Aibram in exchange for nrega I earnt years ago working for the Manafa Shipping Line, plus a very lucky windfall in the silly exchange rate between nrega and coins, I think. But who’s to say? Aibram was perfectly happy, I think.

They’ve just come back from a trip all the way to Vantun, after making good money taking some wealthy passengers down there from Bhoemar. Viiniha pointedly didn’t say anything about how she thought they’d made their money.

They had come through from Ramhampong on a rather nice little ship, and sold it. They were English speakers from Ballerra and knew that Vantun was where they speak English, but had never been this side of the Maze before. They employed a Vantuner from Bhoemar as interpreter for the trip.

The interpreter came back to Bhoemar on Vinhaassa, and Viiniha had the distinct impression that she had been rather traumatized by the experience. Exactly what had happened to her Viiniha didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. I can guess.

Would I like to come for another trip? For old times’ sake? Oberon must be grown up by now. How is he?

Married last year. No, no children yet. I don’t think she’s pregnant, but I’m not that good at knowing! He works for the railway, teaching the three Rs to railway people’s children.

No, he couldn’t get away. I shall have to think about whether I want to. I’d half love to, of course, but half of me wants to stay at home. Oh, various reasons.

They’ll be back here in a couple of weeks. The crew are going to take a break in Zhaam, and Viiniha will go up the Ariha to Briggi and back. It might be time for a load of copper from Barioha, she doesn’t know yet.

786 Spring 1,5

Do I want to take Viiniha up on her offer? I’m not sure. Half of me longs to be back at sea – properly, not pottering about in Senghori, much as I love doing that. But half of me wants to be here with Obe and Vii, and Miisha and Judd and Jiishaani, and Yaana and Peyr and Joesham. And Behmi.

But they will still be here when I get back, and I haven’t been to sea properly for – goodness, twelve years. And it’ll be good to be with Viiniha and the crew, too.

786 Spring 2,7

A good session at the Railwayyard again. It’ll be the last one this year, because I’m going away for I don’t know how long. I decided I would go with Viiniha.

I talked it over with everyone. They all say I should go, take the opportunity while it’s there. And Judd decided he wanted to come too, and Miisha was as ambivalent about that as I’d been at first, and then as thoroughly persuaded by everyone else as I am. So now we’re waiting to see if Viiniha is happy to have an extra passenger.

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